AN/ I always wanted to read of Voldemort setting off a Zombie apocalypse when I was reading HP as a kid. I always hoped it was just around the corner in the next book. Book #7 was a huge let-down for me.
One of my pride and joys is my Stormtrooper Armor. I always wondered why people haven't considered stormtrooper armor with a wet-suit underneath as anti-zombie? It would be pretty damn difficult to bite through a few layers of insulated plastic.
They are a lot cheaper than squid suits or chain mail. Lighter than leather armor(which is not bite-proof).
Or I might just be one of those crazies that has stormtrooper armor in my closet in case of zombie apocalypse... and fancy dress parties.
On with the madness.
Harry Potter and the Zombie Apocalypse
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2000-
The bathroom of 'Grace Brothers' Department Store' has never been more comfortable. The door transfigured into solid wall. An overweight woman with bright green hair had nearly brought the door down a few years ago. There was a hole in the wall on letting in 'fresh' air. I had lived here for quite a while now. Since Hogwarts.
A Wizard tent is a masterful idea. Big thanks from me to the creator of them. A five bedroom tent with self-contained plumbing and gas. A fully stocked kitchen of self duplicating food. A rather large library of mostly scavenged books. A very respectable armory.
I'm alone now. So lonely. It's all my fault.
I haven't seen another person since Hermione got on her broom and headed off somewhere far away from me. Her mirror doesn't respond anymore. Hasn't in months and months.
It was a lost cause.
She is just as dead as everyone else, most likely. It's my fault.
It is always my fault. I don't even feel guilty anymore. My tears are dry.
How lucky the other animals of the world are. They don't know they are going to die. Humans are the only ones given the curse of foreknowledge. You don't see little birds fluttering in the sky brooding about when they will eat their wand and put an end to it. I've already tried. I always come right back.
Wizards have it even worse. Their high resistance to microbial infections made them live even longer than the muggles. Two hundred was a common age to live to. Two fifty even for some. Damn well over five hundred in the case of the Flamels.
Am I sane anymore?
"For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo." I snorted and snapped the book shut. I tossed the book into the air and flicked my wand. The book zoomed back to it's place on the shelf.
What a cauldron of feces.
I can give Shakespeare six billion more tales far more woeful than a teen suicide.
It is my fault that the world is the way it is. I should have killed him. None of this would have happened if I killed him. If only I had known what would happen. What Dudley would become. I should have done more. Maybe if I paid attention in divination class. Maybe if I was more heartless.
It was all my fault. And Umbridge's...
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1995-
I glared at Dudley as my wand-tip pressed underneath his third chin. The laughter of his friends as I held a stick at Big-D. The idiots had just beaten up a ten year old and decided to go see what 'Nutty Potter' was up to. Bringing up Cedric, whose death haunts me, was the start. Mocking my deceased mother was just the polish on the wand.
Dudley's face was white as he looked back into my angry eyes.
"Wheres my mother you ask." I whispered as I felt my wand start to heat up in my hand.
His friends continued laughing.
"How about I send you to meet my mother?" I continued. I was angry enough to. I wouldn't though. It just wasn't who I am. Killing muggles because I was a bullied kid.
I'm not Voldemort.
"Gonna give him some splinters with that stick?" Piers asked through his laughs.
The sky turned dark in seconds. Clouds built from nowhere blocked the sun. It is the middle of summer. Mid nineties Fahrenheit turned to mid thirties as a cold wind blew in. The sky rumbled. Lightning flashed in the suddenly dark summer day.
The laughter of Diddydum's friends trailed off as they shivered. Dudley's eyes were wide as he pissed himself. Luckily for him, his friends were already running home to escape the rain sure to come. The cold became even harsher.
If anything, The cold just made me angrier. I felt no desire to run from the rain or the cold.
"You.. You can't do mah.. muh.. that stuff outside of school." Dudley stuttered. I thought about my mother. What her last words were. I saw the green flash and the high pitched laugh in my mind's eye. That woman who died for me. Insulted by this scum?
"You think I care about the rules after what you said?" I hissed. Voldemort's laughter ringing in my ears.
I felt myself lifted off the ground by my neck. A shrouded black figure held me aloft in the air by my neck. It dropped me back to the ground and floated down to me. It's rancid hole made contact with my lips.
My father's voice telling my mother to run.
"Stand aside you silly girl!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
A green flash.
"Expecto Patronum!" I shouted. Prongs knocked the dementor off me and into the sky. I still felt the chill. I looked behind me at Dudley's whimpering form under the black rags of a second dementor. Prongs came back around to take care of this one as well. The soul sealing suckhole came off Dudley's face with a wet pop.
"No. No. Stop it." Dudley whimpered on the ground.
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Vernon had me help him drag his son to his car. He was unconscious. His lips were swollen. Red and purple, the lips looked infected. I'm not a healer or anything though. He had passed out after the letter from the ministry had spoken it's say on my future. Dumbledore's letter came seconds after.
Petunia followed in her summer dress that showed way too much skin I did not want to see. She was bitching the entire time. As we got Dudley into the car, Vernon jumped into the driver's seat in a hurry. Petunia joined him in the car and they started to pull away.
I started to head back into the house when I heard tires squeal. Uncle Vernon's car was accelerating as fast as a BMW could. Swerving wildly, it slammed into #13 with a crash. I started running towards the car accident.
What could make this day better?
I could make out Aunt Petunia's shrieking over the roar of the car's engine. The car was lodged in the living room of our neighbor's house. People started to exit their houses and come to stare at the commotion. "Phone the Bobbies, Jug-ears!" Mrs. Rumbold, of #9, yelled at her bald, big eared husband.
I got to the tinted windowed car and opened the door. The sight will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Vernon and Dudley glance up at me, mouths cored in blood. Chunks of my Aunt's shoulder were stuffed in the chewing mouth of my cousin. Her intestines were getting sucked down like noodles by my large uncle. Mrs. Brahms, of #12 saw over my shoulder. The highly attractive blond had a high pitched voice with a cockney accent.
It was put to use busting my ear-drums and shocking me out of my stupor. Vernon climbed out of the luxury car's open door as I backed away. My eyes were stinging as tears made their way down my cheeks.
My only family dead.
I jerked my wand out of my back pocket. I shakily pointed it at the fat man as he grabbed the hysterical Mrs. Brahms and bit down on her outstretched arm.
"Stupify!" I yelled as the red light hit my murderous Uncle in the chest.
He kept biting and clawing. Mr. Lucas, of #15, ran passed me and tackled Vernon's bulk off the shrieking and bleeding blond. More neighbors started to pile onto Vernon as Dudley exited the car.
My memory is a bit foggy after that point. I remember the look of Dudley's slack face the the rasping groan that came from his mouth.
I remember the smell of blood.
The feel of fear.
The sound of death's rattling moans.
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End Note: Dementors have the zombie virus on their lips...
